Sitting in a balmy Dublin garden, warmer than the South of France, wars and terrors and diseases seem so far away. In a way they are and yet, to be honest, they are not. Sure, we can’t hear the bombs and shelling in Iraq, but we can see it on the telly and we can hear the voices of the multitudes clamouring for water, for bread and for peace and quiet. Similarly, we can hear the twisting and turning and evasions in the Northern peace process. And yes, we can’t forget disease. We are learning to live with SARS.

Let’s start with Iraq. The big war has been won, but the little wars that follow on are a different matter.

There have been many casualties, mostly Iraqi. Some have been fighters, members of the Saddam fedayeen, a militia loyal to Saddam, or the dreaded Republican Guard. But many have been civilians, innocent men women and children who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And in some cases, the number and manner of the deaths were horrific.

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